In my New Jersey world, winter is the season of dry skin. As the cold comes in and heated indoors become the norm, my skin slowly dries out. Then, as winter settles upon us, my skin cracks and feels unpleasant. Around that time, I start to demand that I be dipped in a vat of warm lotion. I am not kidding.
Summers are better, at least as far as my dry skin is concerned. The humidity keeps the air moist and my skin is more supple and soft. But there is an unpleasant side effect: humid heat finds me sweating, often unpleasantly. If there was an Olympics of sweating, I would be a contender. I know what you're thinking, Internet, and yes I am prone to hyperbole. But not on this matter. Don't be jealous.
Trips to California in August largely cure the sweating. It's hot here, but there is no humidity and I find it surprisingly pleasant. Or at least it is pleasant until the dry skin returns with a ceiling-fan-driven vengeance. Within 3 days, my skin is feeling dry and crackling and my eyes are bulging dry, thanks to the ceiling fans that are everywhere.